


Follow Through

by saturdaychild29



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-25 06:56:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9808250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saturdaychild29/pseuds/saturdaychild29
Summary: It's been done a million times. So, why not a million and one? Sansa and Joffrey break up and--after a long period of mopping--Margaery forces Sansa into attending a girls' night.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hi Everyone! Thanks for reading. This is my first fanfic. Please be gentle? 
> 
> Title and included lyrics are based off of various songs by Gavin DeGraw. 
> 
> I own nothing. :-)

Sansa was tired and it showed. She wasn’t sure how or why Margaery had convinced her to go out on a Friday night. She sat at their table, quietly sipping her whiskey sour. She didn’t normally drink, but if ever there was occasion to, it was tonight. Her auburn hair was swept into a high ponytail and if you squinted, you could tell that her makeup had been retouched at least twice since Margaery and her new friend Rhaenys had dragged her to the local watering hole

If you’d asked Sansa in January where she’d be in December, she would have likely had a dramatically different idea of the way things would turn out. The year had started off great. She’d received her masters’ degree from the prestigious Kings’ Landing College in May. In June, her longtime boyfriend—and son of her father’s best friend—had proposed and they’d planned for a winter wedding. In July, her internship at Petyr Baelish’s law firm had turned into a fulltime job. 

That’s about the time things began to fall apart. The day after she accepted a full time position at the law firm, her father’s best friend—her fiancé’s father, Robert—died suddenly of a heart attack. An outside observer would have expected Joffrey to have been devastated by his father’s unexpected passing. But, quite the opposite happened. He seemed almost grateful. While his younger siblings Tommen and Myrcella had bit back tears at the funeral, Joffrey was impatiently checking his watch. That was to be a taste of what was to come.

At the time, Sansa hadn’t thought much of it. Everyone handles grief differently; she had told herself. Besides, Joffrey had never been a particularly emotional person. But, with time, Sansa began to realize that Robert had been the only thing holding Joffrey in check. The more days passed, the more emotions that Joffrey expressed—but they were never good.

First, Sansa had come home late to find their shared apartment in shambles. The television was broken and her grandmother’s heavy armoire was on its side with contents strewn everywhere. Joffrey had screamed at her, wondering what had taken her so long. If she didn’t hurry, they were going to miss dinner with his family. Had she been cheating on him with the older man who’d always not-so-secretly fancied her mother? And what was with her anyway? Ever since she’d graduated school, she’d really let herself go.

At the time, Sansa had choked back tears and told herself that Joffrey was lashing out because he missed his father. In her world, that’s the only explanation that had made sense. They’d rushed into his car and Sansa had spent the entire evening pretending that she was invisible. 

A few weeks later, Joffrey decided that Sansa didn’t really need a job. Not if she was going to marry him, the heir of Baratheon Industries. Besides, she could stand to spend a bit more attention on herself, he had said. He decided that she had gotten fat over the last few months and there was nothing to be done for it, really. “You know, you should really consider working out more.” He’d said on more than one occasion. He didn’t understand how it’d happened anyway. “It’s not like you can cook.” He’d reminded her in one particularly vicious one-sided argument. “It’ll be so nice once we get married and you can quit that stupid job and focus on learning to do useful things.” 

Sansa wasn’t sure where the Prince Charming she’d met had gone, but the more time passed, the more apparent that it became that he wasn’t coming back. Maybe he hadn’t been there to begin with and Sansa—having been busy with school and everything else—simply hadn’t noticed. The more weight she lost, the crueler Joffrey became. Sometimes, he wondered aloud how he’d ever found her beautiful. In the guise of being kind, he’d scheduled her for a makeover appointment. He reminded her that they were getting married soon and certainly, she’d like to look better than she did now.

In the real world, Sansa grew skilled with hiding her sadness. The wedding was planned and the invitations were sent. In her mind, there was no backing out now. To everyone else, she still seemed herself, just a little thinner. Most wrote it off as pre-wedding jitters. Arya thought that she was being selfish and threatened to come over there and forcibly drag her home if she didn’t stop acting like she was better than them. Mr. Baelish thought perhaps she hadn’t adjusted to the full-time position and suggested she take a few days off. Politely, Sansa had refused him. But, Mr. Baelish had a soft spot for the Starks—especially the petite redhead who so closely resembled her mother. 

The next day, when Sansa showed up to work again with dark circles under her eyes, he’d taken her out to breakfast. She’d tried to refuse him, but he’d insisted. That’s when Joffrey and his mother had shown up to the same restaurant. That evening, when she’d returned home from work, she was greeted with Joffrey’s fist to her stomach. He dared not hit her face—he didn’t want to make her uglier than she already was, he said. Once again, Sansa bottled up the sobs in her chest that were aching to get out. Joffrey had only laughed, sensing her discomfort. He’d called her terrible names and wondered if he was the only one who was going to take their wedding vows seriously. 

Then, as a few rogue tears spilt down her pale face, Joffrey hugged her tightly against him. He told her not to worry, that he wouldn’t call the wedding off. Besides, if he didn’t marry her, who would? She was a lot to handle, he told her time and time again. He had told her that so many times that she began to believe it. The days blurred together like ill-conceived watercolors. She awoke, went to work, and weathered whatever storm was waiting for her at home. 

She even believed it was her fault months later when she came home from a particularly long night at the law firm, only to find Joffrey in their bed with the flirty next-door neighbor Arianne. She’d backed away slowly, packed up a few things and ran. Joffrey had called something after her. She didn’t stick around long to find out what.

It had been months. When Sansa ran, she never looked back. The wedding had been called off. Joffrey had eloped with Arianne instead. Joffrey had called her on their wedding day, drunkenly telling her all the ways Arianne was better than her. Sansa had hung up before he could launch into graphic detail.

After Sansa moved back home—only temporary, she had promised her parents—she’d tried to pretend that nothing had happened. But, the mask she’d been wearing over the summer had slowly begun to melt off. She couldn’t write off her emotions anymore. No one knew exactly what she’d been through, but they could guess. With nowhere to hide, things that were hidden before became crystal clear. Her battle wounds were apparent in the way she reflexively flinched whenever anyone else got too close to her. Or, the way her voice had become decibels softer and she ducked her head when she spoke. 

Living at home was strange. Robb had moved out. He and Jon had gotten their own apartment and dedicated copious amounts of time in-between work to practicing for when their part time band would hit the big time. Arya had been accepted to a foreign exchange program. Theon—who, although not family, had been a nearly permanent fixture in the house growing up—had moved across town with her childhood friend, Jeyne Poole. Bran and Rickon were still at home, but Bran was preparing for college and Rickon was trying desperately to muddle through his first year of high school. 

Sansa spent most of her time either at work or at home, engrossed in Netflix. Margaery, while always supportive, was usually swamped with work or out and about with her new mystery boy. She had promised to disclose more information soon, but Sansa hadn’t pressed. She was still taking things day by day. 

Sitting alone in the bar, while Rhaenys and Margaery refreshed their drinks, Sansa remembered that tonight had been Margaery’s idea. Once she’d finally received a day off, Margaery decided a girls’ night was in order. Mrs. Stark had all but forced Sansa out of the house. Noticing that Sansa had Gilmore Girls queued up in her room once again, Catelyn had informed Sansa with a teasing smile that Sansa had 30 minutes before Margaery was coming by—and if the girls had to pick her up and forcibly drag her out in her pajama pants, she wasn’t going to stop them. 

Now, as Sansa sat in the bar with her friends, she felt some of the shell shock wear off. It was like waking up from a deep sleep. Sure, she half-expected Joffrey to storm into the bar with his “dog” as he referred to him at any minute. Even if he did have Arianne, Joffrey was never easily satisfied. Then again, the more she thought about it, the more she didn’t care. 

“Are you ready for the band?” Margaery asked, talking over the bar which had suddenly grown quite loud. 

Sansa looked at the two girls confusedly. “What band? I thought you said that this was just a quiet night at the bar.” 

“Me? A quiet night?!” Margaery broke out into a wide grin. “Nope! You know me better than that, Silly! Don’t worry though, I got you another drink. Yours is looking a little low.” 

She handed Sansa a Long Island iced tea, before turning back to Rhaenys. “I’m telling you Rhae, you’d love my brother Willas. Sure, he’s a little older, but he’s a great guy.”

Rhaenys blushed shyly and murmured something vaguely about considering it. 

“Wait, Margaery. Don’t you have work in the morning?”

Sansa wasn’t aware that Margaery’s smile could get any wider, but apparently it could. “Nope! Since we’ve been working super hard all week, Anna Wintour incarnate decided to give us the weekend off.” She adopted a mock whisper. “Really, I think it’s because Tyrion switched her meds.” She reached for an imaginary rosary. “Bless that man!” She said reverently. 

Margaery worked for Cersei Lannister, Joffrey’s mother and—as of recently, everyone’s least favorite person, except for Joffrey, perhaps. Margaery had worried that her proximity to Sansa’s would-be mother-in-law would be problematic. However, knowing how much better a designer her friend was than Cersei, Sansa found it oddly gratifying to hear firsthand of the older woman’s shortcomings. 

When she caught sight of her brother’s auburn hair on stage, Sansa connected more than one pair of dots. In her dazed state, she must’ve missed quite a bit. Not least of which was who the new man in Margaery’s life was. No wonder she’d been so cheerful lately. Sansa remembered the first time Margaery had seen Robb. Instant attraction, albeit, at the time, it had been one-sided. Sansa maintained it was only because Robb was decidedly oblivious when it came to matters of the heart. Margaery must’ve asked him out. Good for her, Sansa thought. But, she decided that if Margaery could have fun, so could she. 

She turned accusingly at Margaery. “How long have you been dating my brother?” 

Margaery about choked on her cosmopolitan. “What? I’m not dating him. I don’t know what you’re talking about. I just thought you’d want to hear how much they’ve improved in the last bit. I know you used to love hearing them perform.” 

“Margaery, you hate Wolves and Dragons.”

At this, Margaery turned the shade of a cranberry, but Robb removed any chance of a reasonable defense. 

“Hey, Babe! Hi, Sansa! I’m glad Margaery got you to come hear us play! We go on in five!” Robb waved at them as he walked over. 

Sansa played dumb. “Oh my gosh. You are dating my brother!” She willed her face to feign shock.

“No, I just-” Margaery started at the same time Robb shot a concerned look at Sansa.

“Wait, she didn’t tell you?! Marg!” He looked a mixture of confused and hurt. 

At the look on each of their faces, Sansa nearly spit up her drink as she laughed. It was her first laugh in what seemed like an eternity. “Really, guys?! It’s fine. Margaery, I know you’ve had a crush on him forever. Robb, your poker face is terrible. If I had seen you even once since you started dating, I would have known.”

“That’s not fair!” Robb protested weakly.

“Yes, it is.” Sansa nudged him smugly. “Besides, if you hadn’t been so dumb, you would’ve picked up on Margaery liking you way before now.”

At this, Margaery’s ears went pink, but she shrugged it off while Robb smirked at her. 

“Is that true?” Robb asked curiously.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Margaery asked sweetly. “Either way, apparently, unobservant runs in the family.” She finished neatly.

“Hmm?” Sansa and Robb asked at the same time. 

Margaery cleared her throat meaningfully. “Right, Jon?”

In the time they had been talking, Robb’s friend had come over, presumably to see what the hold-up was.

“I’m sorry, what?” Jon asked. His initially blank expression had temporarily turned into something else.

Margaery smiled. “Nevermind. You guys have a show to do. Right, Rhaenys?” The two exchanged a knowing look, while Sansa stared blankly at them. Jon looked at Robb questioningly. 

After a minute though, Jon seemed to pick up on something and shook his head ever so slightly at Margaery.

Margaery raised her eyebrows as if to say, “you big wuss.” 

Jon shrugged half-heartedly, before dragging Robb off with him, where Grenn, Samwell and a large man (Sansa could never remember his name) were waiting impatiently.

With the guys gone, Sansa turned to her friends, noticing that her glass had once again been refilled. “What is going on?” 

“Nothing!” Rhaenys said a little too quickly, before trying to change the subject. “So, Margaery, tell me more about Willas?”

Margaery would have happily obliged, had Robb not taken that moment to introduce his band.

“How’s everybody doing tonight?” He asked to a cheering crowd. “For those of you who don’t know, we are Wolves and Dragons!”

Sansa rolled her eyes, muttering to Margaery against Robb’s introduction that she would find out what her friend was up to—one way or the other.

Margaery just grinned smugly while Sansa turned her attention to her brother’s band as they began to play. Despite Sansa’s continued prodding, Margaery refused to budge.

For the next 30 minutes or so, it went on like this. Wolves and Dragons played all the usual songs, from “Winds of Winter” to “Beyond the Wall.” They even played a few that Sansa didn’t know. 

But, things got strange as they began to wrap up. Margaery elbowed Sansa to pay attention as she and Robb exchanged a mischievous look. 

Robb smirked and looked over at Jon. “…So, I’d like to change things up for our last song.” Robb was saying. “See, my best friend Jon has written a new song and since I don’t know how it goes—and he won’t tell me,” at this, Robb shot Jon a cheeky grin.

The audience laughed.

“…So, I’m afraid I have no choice but to step back and have him sing this one solo.” 

At this, Jon blanched. “No, no. I told you it’s not ready yet.” He hissed frantically.

Robb smirked as he briefly stepped away from the microphone. “Tough. Should’ve told me that before.” 

Turning back to the microphone, Robb surveyed the audience. “What do you guys say?”

Once again, the crowd erupted into (slightly drunken) cheers. “Well, Jon. I’d say that’s a yes. How about you give us what you got. I’m sure the guys and I can figure it out and follow along.”

Jon looked absolutely murderous, but Robb was unfazed.

“Ladies and gents, I’d say he needs a bit of encouragement. How about a quick hand for Mr. Jon Snow?”

The crowd roared and Jon, seemingly defeated, approached the mike. 

At this, Sansa’s heart sank for Jon. He hated being the center of attention—and had said as much on more than one occasion. She turned to Margaery. The brunette was positively eating the whole thing up. “Margaery, what have you done?”

Margaery shrugged noncommittally and Sansa didn’t get a chance to push her further. Instead, she was distracted by the sound of a guitar—and the realization that the bar had grown silent. Jon normally faded into the background, but not tonight.

“You need a friend. I’ll be around. Don’t let this end before I see you again. What can I say to convince you to change your mind for me?”

He continued on for a while until he came to what Sansa imagined was the bridge. Jon stopped for a second, as if waging war internally. Sansa felt him looking at her, as if asking permission, a small voice seemed to say.

She smiled at him encouragingly. Jon smiled back and continued as his fingers slipped deftly through the chords he’d written. Contrary to Robb’s promise, the band had stepped back and let him go. 

“San-”Jon coughed, “Girl, I’m gonna love you more than anyone.”

Sansa looked at her brother’s friend and realized that he was staring at her. He continued the song—albeit very self-consciously—while she thought back to when Jon had come into her life. 

Unbidden, certain memories popped into her head. Sansa crying on the playground after Theon had told her she had cooties—and Jon assuring her that even if she did, he didn’t mind. Everyone gathering around for Thanksgiving dinner and a preteen Jon shyly offering her—then all of eight—the wishbone. Her signing Jon’s cast when he broke his arm playing rugby and him telling her that her drawing of a small direwolf was his favorite—even if Arya had said it looked more like a potato. Jon agreeing to be her (platonic) prom date when Harry had dumped her the night before. Jon driving her to one of her college mid-terms after her car had broken down—and spending two hours in a nearby coffee shop, just so he could make sure she got home safely too. Jon calling her when she’d first moved back home, just to make sure she was okay. 

The more she thought about it, the more she realized that Jon had always been there. Gods she was stupid.

She looked back at Jon who was packing up in the corner of the stage. The song had ended while Sansa had been lost in thought.

“So, what are you going to do about it?” Margaery whispered coyly.

“Margaery, I just got out of a relationship. I can’t—why did you?” Sansa’s words were tumbling out of her mouth in rapid succession.

Margaery cleared her throat. “Jon.” She nodded and dragged Rhaenys up with her as she headed to the rest of the band.

“So, I er--” John shifted his feet uncomfortably. 

Sansa looked at him carefully. “Margaery forced you to, didn’t she?”

Jon exhaled deeply. “Is it wrong to hate them sometimes?”

Sansa laughed. “Nope. The two of them together are dangerous. Want to sit?” She motioned toward Margaery’s vacated seat.

Jon sat. “Sansa, look, I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to say your name. I know this is probably the last thing you wanted tonight. It’s just I’ve liked you for a while and once Robb figured it out, he wouldn’t let it go.”

Sansa adopted a very Margaery-esque smirk. “Do you presume to tell me what I want?” She raised her eyebrows coyly. “That would be a very poor start to a relationship.” She smiled. 

“I know, look I just hope we can be friends, wait--” Sansa’s words suddenly seemed to register with Jon.

“You don’t hate me?”

Sansa’s smile grew wider. “No. I just need time to process. You’re right that I wasn’t prepared, but that doesn’t mean I don’t like you. How did Robb find out anyway?”

At this, Jon seemed to find his lap very interesting. His expression turned sheepish. “I was in the room when he found out about Joffrey. Do you remember that oversized Eyrie sculpture your mom made Robb take with him when he moved out?”

Sansa thought back and nodded.

“It ended up in a million pieces—but not before making a lovely dent in the wall.” 

Sansa burst out laughing. “Aunt Lysa will be heartbroken.”

“You’re…laughing?” Jon seemed confused.

“Mom hated that thing. She couldn’t donate it because you know Varys down at the antique shop would just tell Lysa the minute it came in. You actually did my family a favor there.”

She stopped laughing and looked at him. “Why did you break it?”

Jon looked at her. “Your brother asked me the same question. He figured if anyone was going to be breaking anything around there, it was going to be him. But, I couldn’t explain it. I just---you’re the sweetest person I know. No one deserves what that little—” Jon stopped himself. “That sorry excuse for a person did.” He paused. “I told Robb that now wasn’t the time, but your brother isn’t known for his listening skills.” He sighed again. “I need to finish packing up, but if I haven’t screwed up completely, is there a chance you’ll be here when I finish?”

Sansa smiled. “I think I can wait. Besides,” she nodded over to Margaery and Robb. Robb was trying unsuccessfully to pack up, with Margaery draped over him. “She was my ride.”

Jon laughed. “I’ll hurry.”

Later that night, they were sat in Jon’s car. Since Margaery was in no shape for driving, Robb had agreed to drive both his girlfriend and Rhaenys home. Unfortunately, his car did not have enough room for Sansa. (Or, so he claimed.) Both Jon and Sansa had rolled their eyes, but gone along with the game.

Sansa broke the silence first. “Is this the same car you had before?”

“The one and only.” Jon smiled. “Sorry, it’s a little worse for wear. Driving around a bunch of guys tends to have that effect.” He groaned as he looked at the backseat. Someone had left a large box of condoms in plain view. “I’m going to kill Grenn one day.”

Sansa laughed. “You could always just tell Robb and save yourself the trouble. He might be happy for us to date, but I doubt he wants to think about anything else.”

Jon smiled at her. “It’s tempting, but then we’d have to find another keyboardist.”

Sansa smiled back. “If you don’t mind, could we go back to your place? I think Margaery convinced them to put more alcohol than usual in my drinks and I’d rather my mom not see me tipsy. I know she’s the one who wanted me to go out, but even so.”

Jon looked at her tentatively. “If you’re sure.”

Sansa eyed him. “If you’d ever seen my mother mad, you wouldn’t ask.”

Jon laughed. “Remember that time Robb, Theon and I got suspended for beating up Jeyne’s ex-boyfriend?”

Sansa shuddered. “I thought my mom was going to string all three of you up by your toes and you and Theon aren’t even family!”

“So, I guess you could say I’m familiar with the fury of Catelyn Stark. Although, she might be more upset if you don’t come home tonight.” Jon pointed out.

“I’ll text her that I’m spending the night at your place.”

Jon sighed. “Well, on the upside, you won’t have to decide whether or not you want to date me. I’ll be dead.” He groaned.

Sansa stopped. “Good point. I’m spending the night at Margaery’s.” 

“Okay. I’ll head that way.” Jon answered.

Sansa swatted him playfully. “No. I meant I’ll tell my mom that. I still want to go to your place, if that’s okay.”

“Well if your mom ever finds out,” Jon sighed. “I suppose I’ve had a good life.” He pulled the car into the apartment parking lot. 

“Jon, what took you so long?” Robb asked as he saw his friend walk in. “Did my sister threaten death?”

“No, Robb.” Sansa said calmly, walking in behind Jon. 

Robb looked at Sansa. “You’re supposed to be at home.”

“Do you really think Mom would be cool with me coming in half-drunk?” Sansa asked as she nearly tripped over Robb’s shoes.

Robb groaned. “Fine, but you’re sleeping on the futon. I told Margaery to cut you off after three.”

Sansa rolled her eyes. “Margaery listens about as well as you do.”

Jon quickly disguised his laughter as a coughing fit.

Robb rolled his eyes. “I’ll call Mom and tell her I dropped you off at Margaery’s.”

Sansa batted her lashes. “Thanks, brother dearest!”

Robb muttered something before retreating into his room.

“Jon?” Sansa asked as she lay on the futon. It was a few hours later and Robb had finally gone to bed—but not before demanding that Sansa drink about two bottles of water and reminding her that the futon was hers.

“Hmm?” Jon asked as he returned with blankets and tucked her in.

“Did you mean what you said earlier?”

“That I was sorry for embarrassing you? Yes, I—”

Sansa shook her head. “No, before that.”

Jon nodded. 

Sansa smiled. “Then, my answer is yes. I’m not promising anything, but I’d like to give us a try. If you’re still interested, that is.”

Jon smiled and crouched down next to her.

“I am.” He kissed her forehead.

“Jon?” Sansa looked at him, before pulling him back toward her.

“Hmm?” Jon asked, 

Sansa sat up and softly pressed her lips to his. “Thank you for tonight.”

“You’re welcome, Sansa!” Robb shouted from the other room. “Go to bed, Jon!”

Jon and Sansa rolled their eyes. “Robb!” They chorused.

They were answered as he poked his head out of his bedroom, gave them both a meaningful look, and slammed his door shut.

“I think he just wishes he’d had presence of mind to invite Margaery back here.” Sansa whispered smugly.

“I heard that!” Robb yelled.

Jon laughed. “Goodnight, Sansa.” He kissed her lightly and tucked the blankets tight around her as she snuggled underneath them.

As he walked back to his room, he found himself singing softly, “Oh, this is the start of something good. Don’t you agree?”


End file.
